


Fib

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3211943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Far before they’re teachers, Severus makes his regular purchase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fib

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This isn’t properly British. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s _so_ beautiful.

He doesn’t know it, and he acts like he isn’t, slinking back against the alley wall with his face turned away from the streetlamps and his matted honey hair falling all over his eyes. There are other witches and wizards down Knockturn Alley selling the same thing, some proclaiming better, others still sinking back but most protruding forward, proud of their wares and prices. There are people here who take _joy_ in it, in this experience that Severus can barely bring himself to feel, but he doesn’t want anything to do with them. He wouldn’t know what to do with a whole person in his hands. He only wants the broken wreck huddled up tight by the mouth of the far alley. Few others call out to Severus anyway. He’s not so much of a catch himself. 

Remus Lupin still looks up at him when he approaches, still nods and takes that half a step into the alley that throws them into darkness. The two buildings on either side have such decrepit roofs that they’re falling into one another, casting everything below in shadow. Lupin puts a small smile on his lips that he can’t possibly mean, and Severus still doesn’t have the strength to return it. 

He stares, for just a moment, like he always does, knowing he’s being awkward and unacceptable and that Lupin will let him. Lupin leans back with a defeated sort of ease. His clothes hang off him like rags and scars wrack his skin, uneven stubble poking out around his jaw. More than once, Severus has thought about cleaning him up. Bringing him home, feeding him so he isn’t as painfully thin and bony as Severus is, giving him a place to sleep that isn’t a dilapidated little shack. There must be _somewhere_ that would take a werewolf, despite all Severus’ own doubts, and surely if Lupin was just cleaned up a bit, he could get a different job. Not all werewolves have so few options, just most. Sometimes, Severus likes to daydream that he could be the guardian angel to change all that. 

But then he realizes how foolish he’s being. He’s no one’s white knight, and Lupin probably looks forward to serving him least of all. Lupin’s never asked for help. He looks dead inside half the time, but it’s for other things, and Severus isn’t the person to change that. 

He fishes a couple galleons out of his pocket—more than Lupin says he’s worth—and shoves it forward with a complete lack of grace. Lupin collects it out of his palm, all warm skin to Severus’ eternal cold. Lupin smiles for a brief moment and doesn’t argue again about being overpaid, because Severus spat at him for it last time. Severus is a monster and knows it. He doesn’t know how to be anything else. Lupin takes a steady breath, looks up at him, and asks, “Do you want to go to my place?”

Severus shakes his head. He’s too ashamed to bring Lupin back to his depressing hovel either. So Lupin just nods and puts his money into one pocket of his oversized robe, the other hand lifting just the tip of his wand out the other side. He mutters the familiar spell that’ll clean him, prepare him, and protect him. Severus is always glad that Lupin does it, because he doesn’t know how himself. He wouldn’t admit it. Then Lupin takes a few steps further down the alley, almost into the total darkness, and Severus has to snarl, “Stop.” Lupin pauses where he stands, looking back with a small frown and a bit of confusion. Maybe he wants to hide, maybe he doesn’t want to see _Severus_ when he gets fucked, but Severus wants to see everything.

He follows down the corridor. Lupin turns, one hand splayed against the dirty wall, but Severus grabs his other shoulder to keep him facing forward. Lupin looks away and Severus _stares_. Maybe, if things had been different, if Lupin hadn’t been swallowed up in Potter’s awful little gang and Severus didn’t have all his own trappings, they could’ve made something of this. They’re both smart. Better than the other drags of their friends. Lupin was always the kindest to him, though never an angel. No one in their year was. But then Lupin had to go and almost _eat_ him, and sometimes Severus still _burns_ with that anger and fear, but mostly he just wants to slam this beautiful creature hard into the nearest wall. 

He licks his lips, never quite knowing where to start, and Lupin slips his robes over his shoulder. They tumble heavily to the pavement, leaving Lupin smaller than ever. He lifts his arms tentatively to Severus’ shoulders, wraps around them, and tugs Severus closer while Severus can hardly move himself. 

Then his hands fly out of nowhere, and he grabs at Lupin’s hips, pushing Lupin up against the wall. Lupin grunts but takes it, and his other hand trails down the front of Severus’ robes. He undoes everything so easily, not even having to look, and Severus lets it happen, because if it were up to him, he’d only fumble embarrassingly. Lupin licks his pretty lips and dips his head to kiss Severus’ cheek: Severus turns away. 

He hates himself for not being able to kiss Lupin on the mouth. He _paid_ for it, and he knows Lupin would let him, Lupin would probably let him do _anything_ , but he just can’t put his tongue between Lupin’s lips like he wants. Just can’t. He’s paralyzed until his robes are open and Lupin pulls him in close and lifts one leg to wrap around him, nearly jumping on him. He ‘oomfs’ and wants to say something, do something, anything, but instead just braces his hands against the wall, trapping Lupin in. 

Lupin does it for him. Lifts onto him, spreads around him, takes him in and pushes down, sucking into that tight, wet heat that always blows his mind. Lupin’s never quite loose enough to make it easy, but the spells can only go so far and Severus doesn’t know what to do to make it better. He likes it how it is, so _tight_ , he just feels guilty, and Lupin says nothing about it. Lupin clutches onto him and starts rocking forward and back, panting in his ear. Sometimes, Severus gets brief flashes of what it might be like to get fucked by a werewolf, but that just disgusts him and makes his cock wilt. He wants Lupin like _this_ : fragile and small and dirty, and he knows that makes him a terrible person. Lupin represents something intangible in Severus’ life that he desperately wants: something beautiful and pure, but all Severus can do is sully it. He loses control easily and starts humping Lupin wildly, stabbing forward in erratic, staccato thrusts that can’t possibly feel good. Lupin makes noises like it does. He gasps and moans once or twice, sometimes whimpers and once sighs. He leans his perfect face against Severus’ cheek, his hair soft like Severus’ will never be, his skin warm and flushed. Severus would do just about anything to make this last forever, but he’s weak and he can’t. 

He wants Lupin _too much._ He comes, suddenly and shamefully fast, with a few final thrusts. It’s an awkward angle, impossible when the haze of lust is gone. He forgot, like he always does, to touch Lupin’s cock. He doesn’t even know if it was hard. Their sex can’t be satisfying. When he pulls back, he half wants to apologize, but grunts instead at the slick feeling of his cock popping out of Lupin’s ass. 

Lupin kneels down automatically, wipes him off on dry hands and tattered fabric, then tucks him back in. Severus stands there, dizzy and full of self-loathing, while Lupin collects his robes off the floor and slowly straightens back up. 

Severus should go. He got what he came for. All that he paid for. But Lupin just stands there looking at him, until he crosses the distance and pushes Lupin back again, making Lupin stumble. He thrusts his tongue into Lupin’s mouth, giddy that he finally did it and also horribly unsure of what to do, but Lupin’s hand lifts to his cheek, soothingly stroking back through his hair. 

Lupin kisses him, long and good, with shallow little nips and soft swipes of tongue, all so precarious and light. Severus feels like he’s going to ruin it at any moment, but instead, it just goes on and on. The first time Severus tries to pull away, Lupin tugs him back and holds onto him while they kiss like the teenagers neither of them are anymore. 

Finally, he’s out of breath, and Lupin lets him go. They look at each other, and Severus gets the horrible feeling that Lupin _knows._ He half expects to get punched. He doesn’t quite now how to _love_ , but his longing is always a twisted, hideous thing that shouldn’t be burdened on anyone, yet Lupin stands there watching him like maybe they could have a chance. 

Severus grumbles some kind of garbled, “Thanks,” and turns on the spot. It was a stupid thing to say, ringing in his ears as he stalks out of the alley. Lupin doesn’t call after him. Severus doesn’t ever want to come back.

When he turns the corner, he runs, and knows he will.


End file.
